


Satinalia

by Dirthera



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Be Kind To Carver, Gen, Grey Wardens, Originally wrote this in 2016 for tumblr but now I'm posting it here, Satinalia (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirthera/pseuds/Dirthera
Summary: They say the first Satinalia with the wardens is always the hardest. Carver is experiencing it for himself.
Kudos: 3





	Satinalia

Carver Hawke had never been one to back down from a fight. He had never trod lightly, never conceded just to end an argument, never let those around him get away with any bullshit. He was one to fight until his knuckles hurt for what he believed he deserved, damn what anyone else thought.

And still, when he woke up in the Grey Warden keep and realized what day it was, it was as though the fight had drained out of him.

Satinalia. The first one spent without his family.

It wasn’t that they had all made such a big deal out of the celebration when he was younger, after all, they weren’t rich merchants or anything of the sort. But it had always been a family affair, always been something they did together. They hadn’t had much, but there had still been small gifts and good food, and Satinalia had always been his favorite holiday.

And now he was here, something foreign in his blood, something making him different and confining him to this order, and no way home, even if he had wanted to go back to the city and family he had left behind. Which he wasn’t quite sure he did anymore, to be honest.

Carver forced his eyes open and made himself get out of bed. It was still dark out, thanks to the time of year and time of day, but he still knew it was time to get to work. Just because it was a holiday didn’t mean there was any less to be done, but they would all get time to celebrate once dinnertime came around. Until then, however, the day would be like any other.

After getting dressed and ready for the day, bundled up in more clothes than he had even owned before being forced to move here, he began padding down the hallway, ready for the day, pushing whatever feelings he had about the holiday down deep where they wouldn’t claim too much attention throughout the day. Still, being without family on Satinalia bothered him. More than he wanted it to.

It didn’t take long for Carver to run into another warden in the dark corridors of the keep. “Run into” was almost literal, as Carver rounded a corner he almost collided with the other man, managing to stop just inches from him, starting violently.

The man in front of him was burly and fierce, and one Carver had only spoken a couple of times. He had never seen the man without a scowl on his face, and honestly? Carver had been afraid to approach him. That same scowl was present now.

But then suddenly it wasn’t, the scowl instead breaking into a grin. Carver started a bit again, and the man reached out and ruffled his hair. “Hey kid, watch where you’re going, yeah?” the man chastised, but his tone was fond and his eyes soft, and Carver was reminded of his father, big and strong and fierce, but soft when it counted, soft when it was needed.

Carver gave a curt nod, for some reason not trusting his voice in that moment, and sidestepped the man. A few moments later, he was away, and he could breathe easy again.

The man was on his mind long after they had parted, his scowl, his grin, his demeanor, the way he was like Malcolm. Still, he pushed the thoughts away in favor of focusing on the work ahead of him. He had reached the armory and prepared to tune the day out, prepared to focus solely on the task at hand.

* * *

Dinnertime arrived faster than Carver would have liked, and entering the dinner hall, he realized there was no longer any way to tune out what day it was.

All around were decorations, looking improvised and homemade, but festive nonetheless, and the tables were decked with more meats and sweets than was usual for dinners at the keep. Carver barely held a scowl off his face as he wandered toward a seat as far away from the center of the festivities as he could get.

Before he could reach his intended seat, however, he heard someone shout from the middle of a clump of men and women at a table in the middle of the room.

“Kid!” It didn’t take Carver long to realize the shout was meant for him, and even less time to locate the source of the jolly hollering. He turned to the man, and was immediately greeted with the same kind-hearted grin he had stood face to face with just that morning. The man beckoned to the seat next to him, and after only a moment of hesitation, Carver marched over and sat himself down in the seat offered, a fierce and challenging expression on his face to cover his uncertainty, a silent challenge issued to every person seated there.

“This is Carver!” the big man announced, and everyone nodded their hellos, and a round of introductions was made. Carver nodded back, though the only name he remembered was Gregor’s, the man who had beckoned him over. After everyone had become acquainted, Gregor continued. “The kid’s a newbie, it’s his first Satinalia here.” The others nodded their understanding, some with pitying expressions on their faces. Carver hated it. He didn’t want their pity. He didn’t quite know what he wanted from them, but it wasn’t this. Not at all.

A woman on the opposite side of the table noted, “The first is always the worst.” She grinned, then gestured to the biggest and burliest man Carver had ever laid eyes on. “Marty spent his first in the wine cellar, drinking the warden commander’s stock of Antivan wine. The next day was fun for all, I can’t remember ever hearing her so angry.” Now everyone around the table was grinning and laughing, seemingly reminiscing about the time the giant, muscled man was chewed out by their tiny but tough as hell warden commander, a sight Carver would have honestly have liked to have seen.

When the laughter and banter died down, the man to the left of Carver launched into a story about how the woman to his right had responded to her first Satinalia by challenging everyone she crossed paths with to fight her, no matter their size or capabilities, and ended up fighting the strangest opponents, and finally got so drunk she tried to fight a grizzly bear. As the story was being told, Carver filled a plate with food, feeling his face begin to relax and a grin begin to worm its way onto it as he listened to story after story of how others had dealt, in many cases in rather poor ways, to their first holidays at the keep. Bit by bit, he relaxed, and for the first time since arriving he felt… content, perhaps.

By the time dinner was over, all thoughts of loss and family had disappeared. All the longing and pain he had pushed away was no longer battling for attention, he felt good, he felt… not quite home, but as though this could perhaps become home at some point.

As though he could make friends.

As though he could, perhaps, make this his family, just as the other wardens had made this their family.

The first Satinalia with the wardens was always the hardest, they said, and yet Carver Hawke went to bed that night with a smile on his face, knowing that things were not good yet, but that they could be.

**Author's Note:**

> If you can't be with people who love you this holiday season, know that one day you will. I love you. The universe loves you. You are not alone.


End file.
